


Can't Get No

by Arya_Greenleaf



Series: Satisfaction [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bottom Armitage Hux, M/M, Rough Sex, Service Top Kylo Ren, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25763092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arya_Greenleaf/pseuds/Arya_Greenleaf
Summary: “Anything else?” Kylo whispers. He’s standing too close, his breath against the side of Hux’s face while he speaks. His fingers work beneath the collar of the greatcoat, smoothing it against Hux’s back. “Or are you satisfied?”
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Series: Satisfaction [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898830
Comments: 20
Kudos: 146





	Can't Get No

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed to remind myself that I could actually produce... something. Enjoy.

Hux grits his teeth and holds onto the console. The switches and toggles dig into his throat and his cheek when he presses himself down, trying desperately to get some leverage against the solid body on top of him. He pushes back and it's finally deep enough, but it’s not satisfying. It’s not what he needs. He knows that he won’t get it unless he takes it, demands it.

Hux reaches back and grabs a hank of Kylo’s hair, interrupting the clumsy gnawing on his neck and ear. He pulls Kylo’s face close to his and snarls, “Fuck me like you  _ mean it _ .”

Kylos big, blunt fingers dig into Hux’s naked hips somewhere under the bunched up bulk of his greatcoat. Kylo pushes him down and something lights up on the console, triggered by the pressure of his body and Kylo’s delicious weight.

“Kriffing  _ dammit _ , Ren --  _ harder. _ ” Hux spits out each syllable with punctuation and curls his fingers tighter into Kylo’s hair. He feels the strands straining, taut against his fingers and threatening to rip free from Kylo’s scalp.

Kylo grunts and clenches his jaw. Hux can feel the smooth surface of Kylo’s bared teeth against his cheek. He wishes for just a moment that Kylo would bite -- that he would open his mouth and sink those stupid, crooked teeth into Hux’s flesh -- that Kylo would leave Hux with something more substantial than a sloppy ass and the welts he’s carving into Hux’s hips with his scraggly nails. 

Kylo slams his body forward and it’s  _ almost _ good. The impact is hard enough, close enough, that there’s no distracting skin-on-skin sound. There’s just the  _ clap _ of the curve of Kylo’s pelvis against the shape of Hux’s ass. The top of Hux’s head hits the console’s display and he laughs, his body lurching forward and tapping it again. The controls are jarred by the jerking of it all, commands lighting up and the screen flashing wildly. A canned voice chirps over the intercom that some door or another has been unlocked -- and locked -- and unlocked.

Kylo takes offense to the laugh, oblivious to anything that isn’t his cock in a hole. He  _ growls _ and it only makes Hux laugh again. Harder, Hux demands of him --  _ do  _ something about it. Satisfy for once in the entire course of their association. “Shut  _ up _ ,” Kylo spits. He grumbles at the hand still in his hair and pries Hux’s fingers away.

He’s better when he stands up again. He  _ means it _ when he hooks his fingers around the protrusion of Hux’s iliac crest, grinding flesh into bone beneath his fingertips with each movement. Kylo hauls Hux’s body backward, slamming into him in shallow, harsh swings until Hux can’t hear the smacking of their bodies for the volume of his breathing.

Everything between them is  _ hot _ and it’s  _ close _ . Hux forgets to cringe when Kylo  _ hwrocks _ under his breath and spits between them to relieve the dry pull of their connection.

Kylo pauses, catching his breath. Hux gazes at the display in front of him, everything unfocused and fuzzy for being far too close to the screen. In just a matter of standard days, the display will be tuned to the charging and firing of his magnificent weapon. Now, with just a skeleton crew of officers on the planet to supervise the technicians and the troopers who will bear witness to the glory of Starkiller from the parade field below not yet arrived, everything is in maintenance mode. Hux snorts, he supposes that’s for the best with the lights all flashing and alerts pinging. 

He chokes on it, on the snort, and it makes his sinuses burn and his eyes water when Kylo slams into him again. He pulls out right to the edge and Hux thinks he might turn around and  _ slap _ Kylo if he dares to go all the way. Kylo is smarter than that though -- he knocks the breath from Hux’s chest --  _ fast  _ sprint forward with his hips,  _ slow _ crawl back with the curl of his spine.

It’s enough for Hux. His hips in Kylo’s hands hurt enough. The switch digging into his cheek is sharp enough. His hole is exhausted and slack enough. His chest burns enough. For the briefest of moments, his mind is entirely blank. He doesn’t hear Kylo snarling as he comes, hardly feels Kylo trembling behind him, up on his toes with his body stiff as a board.

“Get off of me,” Hux hisses, his brain swimming back into occupy that blank space in a wave of static. He hates the feeling of Kylo pulling out completely, leaving him gaping. His face flushes with warmth and he knows he’s turned red with embarrassment. He’s glad for the greatcoat falling back over his legs and concealing his backside. Kylo is unnervingly quiet, only his delicate huffing and snuffling while he rights himself. Hux draws himself up straight and tucks away his own spent cock. He’ll page janitorial and let them deal with the off-putting residue on the panel below the controls.

“Anything else?” Kylo whispers. He’s standing too close, his breath against the side of Hux’s face while he speaks. His fingers work beneath the collar of the greatcoat, smoothing it against Hux’s back. “Or are you satisfied?”

Hux flips a switch, taps a button, enters a code. The chaos splashed across the display reverts to organized green text on a field of black. He turns just enough to cast Kylo a sidelong glance. Kylo smirks and backs away. He looks around for a moment and finds his helmet on the seat of the nearest workstation, fitting it over his head again before he quits the room.

Hux breathes out, emptying his chest. He looks down at his hand and the sparse, dark strands wrapped around his fingers. “Never,” he says to no one.

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments.
> 
> Twitter, tumblr, all that. Links are somewhere. I'm sure you can find them wherever you are that it's not 4:18 AM.


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